Friday, December 21, 2007

Work often takes me to a town on the outskirts of London where they film a bafflingly popular soap, as well as a remarkably dull hospital drama and other such productions. On the train some mornings, I’ll find myself seated next to someone who is clearly a member of the production crew, who will be pouring over a script, or the outline for a stunt. I will read these scripts because I am a nosey person and because their keepers are often careless. I imagine if I actually cared to watch the soap then I would find this very exciting indeed.

Perhaps more interesting though is that on the train home I sometimes find myself sat amongst all the extras. They chatter excitedly and, in the way only thespians can, loudly about their various careers which are currently on hold (hence the extras work), and complain about how hard it is sat in a café for six hours pretending to drink tea.